


Voicemail

by Elensule



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dark, Hurt No Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-16
Updated: 2015-12-16
Packaged: 2018-05-07 02:09:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5439521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elensule/pseuds/Elensule
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While on a run, Dean missed an important phone call.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Voicemail

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks as always to Lisa for reading, and thanks to Zephyr for the great cover!

****  
_Hey-o, you’ve reached the voicemail of Dean Winchester. You can probably tell by the fact that I didn’t pick up the phone that I’m not available right now. Leave me a message and I’ll call you back… If you’re interesting._  
Beep!

 **1:51 PM** _Dean, it’s me… You must be out on your run. I just wanted you to know I’m running a little late  
myself, and I’m going to stop at the store on the way over as well. I’ll be over as soon as I can. I love you._ **End of message.**

Dean set his phone to silent at one forty-five as he started his run, not wanting to be distracted. He had a marathon to train for, and it was a long-run day; fifteen miles. Cas and Sam knew, and knew he wouldn’t be available for a couple of hours. They never cared. He fit his earbuds into his ears, and _Eye of the Tiger_ started up. He grinned, jogging at a steady warm up paces as he began his route for the day.

About four miles in it started to rain, and Dean cursed; the storm rolled in with a suddenness that all summer storms seemed to share. Within minutes he was drenched, and Dean ducked his head against the torrent. _Carry on my Wayward Son_ thrummed in his earbuds. He carried on.

 **2:40 PM** _Dean, it’s Sam. Listen, I know you’re running and if I knew what route you were on I’d come and pick you up. Jess is on her way to the park right now, I think that’s where you are… Fuck. Dean, there’s been an accident. It’s Cas… They said it’s bad. We’re at Sacred Heart. Dean, you’ve gotta get here, now. Please… Call me as soon as you get this._ **End of message.**

Dean rounded the bend, stretching his legs with a groan. The rain hadn’t stopped for his _entire_ run, and he could feel the chill water draining his reserves. He really wished he hadn’t put his run _home_ as part of his distance. It would have been really nice to slide into Baby right then, and crank the heater up. But, then he wouldn’t have wanted to get the seats all wet, so all things considered, he figured it was what he’d have ended up doing anyway. _We Will Rock You_ slammed into him, and a grin split his lips despite the freezing downpour. _Way to go, Freddie,_ he thought happily as he hit the sidewalk toward home. Cas would be by soon, and he’d have soup. A hot shower and warm meal, and Cas. That was all Dean needed.

 **3:50 PM** _Dean, we’ve looked at the park. We’ve looked at your apartment… Where the hell are you? Jess just went to Cas’ neighborhood but she can’t find you there, either. Dean, it’s_ bad _. He’s in surgery but… The doc said it doesn’t look good._ Please _call me. Jess is gonna come to your house in like, half an hour. I’ll… I’ll talk to you soon._ **End of message.**

Dean was really proud of his time; he’d beat his best by nearly twenty minutes. Shivering, he frowned as he unlocked the door to see Cas wasn’t there yet. A glance at the clock on the DVD player told him that Cas was an hour late, but then, it wasn’t unusual for his boyfriend to get caught up in grading things. Dean dropped his armband with his phone on the counter, glad it was waterproof, and headed to the shower. He’d call Cas when he got out.

He luxuriated in the hot water, but didn’t linger too long. The water heater was notorious for cutting out, and the last thing he wanted was to get a rude awakening from the cold water. He pulled on some comfy sweats and a loose tee as he padded into the kitchen. “Cas?”

Huh. Cas was usually pretty good about calling if he was gonna be late. “Oh, duh, dumbass!” Dean headed into the kitchen and grabbed his phone out of the case. As he thumbed it on, he frowned; fifteen missed calls? What the hell? 

**You have three new messages. First new message:**

**One fifty-one PM** _Dean, it’s me… You must be out on your run. I just wanted you to know I’m running a little late  
myself, and I’m going to stop at the store on the way over as well. I’ll be over as soon as I can. I love you._ **End of message.**

Cas’ message brought a smile to his lips. That was so like him, and to always end his message with “I love you”. The smile dropped when Sam’s messages started to play. The world spun around him at the frightened tone in his little brother’s voice. 

There was a knock on the door as the second message ended, and Dean’s phone slipped from his suddenly nerveless fingers to clatter on the floor. He clutched at the counter for support. “Dean? Dean, it’s me, it’s Jess!” His sister-in-law pushed open the door.

Her eyes were red rimmed when she came into the kitchen; she’d been crying. “Oh, thank God you’re home,” she said, her voice almost a sob. She straightened, clearly trying to keep herself together. “Get your shoes on, come on, we’ve got to go.”

Dean followed in a daze as Jess gathered up his phone and ushered him to the living room. He slipped his flip flops on, and let her shove a sweat jacket over his shoulders before she herded him to the car. The rest of the drive was a blur; he couldn’t later recall how they got into the car, or what roads they took to the hospital; he just knew that suddenly he was in a cold, dreary waiting area. 

Sammy stood to greet him, and pulled him into a hug. “God, Dean…” Dean let himself be hugged, limp. _Cas_ , was all he could think. He sat next to Sam, staring at the walls. Some faded landscape of a mountain lake or something, he thought; it was so old, he almost couldn’t tell.

 _Do all hospitals like… conspire to keep waiting rooms as depressing as possible?_ he thought inanely, the thought popping unbidden to his mind as he stared around the pastel-and-gray waiting area.

He fumbled for his phone, suddenly unable to bear staring at the monotone colors any longer. Instead he flipped open his contacts to Cas’ number, staring at the smiling contact picture there. He had a deep urge to call it; Cas’ phone would ring, and he’d pick up, and this would all be a dream. Dean closed his phone and shoved it into his pocket.

Minutes passed, or hours… Days? Dean lost track, never once glancing at the clock no matter how many times he fished his phone out of his pocket and stared at Cas’ picture. The door opened, and there entered a man in gray scrubs spattered with… Oh god. That was blood. Dean was going to be sick.

“Castiel Novak?”

Dean’s head shot up even as his stomach dropped like a rock. No. He nodded. “That’s… I’m Dean. I’m his boyfriend.”

The doctor advanced and offered a hand. “I’m… I’m very sorry, Dean,” he said, sorrow and fatigue radiating from his words. We did all we could. Unfortunately, Mister Novak lost too much blood, too quickly. We were unable to save him.” 

Dean was numb; the blood rushed in his ears and he nearly missed the doctor’s next words. They were moving him to a room, so they could say their goodbyes. No! Dean stumbled backward and bolted out the door, ignoring Sam calling after him. Cas wasn’t gone! He couldn’t be!

Dean ran until he was outside the hospital, on the grounds somewhere. The rain had slowed to a drizzle, and the sun began to peek out from between the clouds. He fumbled in his pocket for his phone, dialing without thinking. It rang, and rang, and rang. “C’mon…” he muttered, and then it picked up. _**Hello, you have reached the voicemail of Castiel Novak. I regret that I am unable to take your call at this moment, but please leave a message and I will get back to you at my earliest convenience. Thank you, and have a nice day.** Beep!_

“Goddamn it, Cas!” Dean ground out, but it was mingled with tears, and his phone slipped from his fingers once again as the first sob was ripped from his throat. Sam found him there, a few minutes later, on his knees in the grass. The tears, once they started, hadn’t stopped, and Sam knelt beside him. He wrapped an arm around Dean’s shoulders, and they cried together in the slowing rain.

Dean’s tears sniffled to a stop sometime later. His throat hurt, his eyes hurt. Everything felt swollen. Sam hugged him more tightly for a moment, and then stood, holding out a hand. Dean wanted to refuse. He knew what Sam wanted, and he _did not_ want to do that. He just… he knew that seeing that would make it real, would make it all real. But Sam held his hand there, so damn steady, and Dean felt the tears threatening again. He took Sam’s hand.

They stayed quiet as Sam led him through the hospital to the small room they’d set aside for them. Cas lay covered in a blanket, as though he was asleep. One hand was on top of the covers, and Jess sat holding it in both of hers. She was crying too, quietly, and when Dean and Sam walked in she held out one hand to them.

Dean froze. He couldn’t… he couldn’t do it. But Jess held out her hand, and like with Sam, he couldn’t let the moment pass. She drew him up to the bed and then stood, giving him her chair. She and Sam each put a hand on his shoulder as he choked out a sob, taking Cas’ hand in his own. Bending his head to the blanket, he took a shuddering breath. “I need… God… I need a minute,” he managed, and Sam squeezed his shoulder firmly.

“We’ll be right outside,” he promised. The door closed behind them with a snick, and Dean stared down at the face of the man he’d loved.

“Damn it, Cas,” he said softly through a sob. “You weren’t supposed to leave me like this. You know what a wreck I am.” He bit his lip, rubbing his thumb softly up and down the cold hand he held. “Fuck.” He leaned in, and when he pressed a kiss to Cas’ forehead, the skin there was cold, too.

Slumping down in the chair, he fumbled for his phone again one handed. He called up his voicemail, navigating the menu clumsily, and pressed it to his ear as that beloved voice began to speak again. 

_Dean, it’s me… You must be out on your run. I just wanted you to know I’m running a little late  
myself, and I’m going to stop at the store on the way over as well. I’ll be over as soon as I can. I love you._ **End of message.** As soon as the message ended, Dean thumbed the rewind button. He clung to Cas’ hand as he listened to the message over, and over, and over as the tears streamed down his face. 

The door cracked open, and Sam stepped in silently. He rested a hand on Dean’s shoulder, and a fresh heartbroken sob broke free from Dean’s lips. Through the tinny speaker Sam heard a beep, and then the message started to play.

 _Dean, it’s me… You must be out on your run. I just wanted you to know I’m running a little late  
myself, and I’m going to stop at the store on the way over as well. I’ll be over as soon as I can. I love you._ **End of message.**

**Author's Note:**

> And... Yes I know I didn't tag for character death. I wanted it to have the same emotional impact on the reader it does for Dean, and this story would lose the impact with a tag.


End file.
